Tragically, the Tooth Fairy failed to perform her duty the other night. My daughter came to me tearfully the following morning to convey her vast disappointment. By the afternoon, the fairy herself had rectified the situation in a rather surprising manner and left for her client not just the requisite dollar, but a carefully written apology and a rather stunning gift: two bee sculptures dangling from the ceiling. The bees are spectacular, both fairly large (one the size of a football), brightly painted, and quite whimsical. My daughter’s face was priceless when she read the letter, which had been taped to her shut bedroom door, then entered her room to see the bees. This evening at dinner, my daughter announced that she simply could not hold a grudge against the fairy due to the events that delayed her the night before.
Below is a copy of the letter. We hope to follow this with photographs of the bees at some point.
Please forgive me for failing to visit last night. I certainly understand if you do find my behavior most egregious. The most horrible thing happened on my way to your humble home in Malvern Gardens. I do hope you forgive me upon learning these frightful circumstances, as they stopped me from fulfilling duties as your beloved Tooth Fairy.
There were approximately ten children who fell asleep before you did last night, whose pillows concealed waiting teeth and lovely notes, and whose parents had indeed followed the appropriate instructions for summoning me. The skies had been thankfully clear thus far, and there were no atmospheric disturbances whatsoever. I was singing along, flitting down the grand avenue that leads to your flower-flanked cottage, when lo and behold! I came across a most nefarious family of savage bees. Bees, as you know, love sweet things and flowers, and are therefore a terrible threat to tooth fairies because of our naturally sugary scent and our lovely flower-blossom flying gowns. This is why we tend to work at night; bees sleep under the starry skies, as do children.
For some reason—the bees were out. There may have been some kind of Malvern Association Bee Keeping Meeting or maybe it was the Gala for the Historic Preservation of Bee Society, as there are such things. Two most ill-tempered bees refused to allow me to pass and gave me a terrible fright. They chased me down Monument Avenue toward that bizarre sculpture of Arthur Ashe (Is he raising his racket to swing at children? Or bees?) and I ran right into that racket. I sprained an armpit and damaged the lower set of wings that function as ailerons for flight. I could not make it home at all and was terribly distressed and discombobulated. Fortunately, one of the Malvern Rabbit Association chief officers found me floundering about, carried me home, and put me to bed.
This morning I awoke, sore and distraught. It seems as though in my troubled state, I had forgotten your precious, and likely, final lost tooth. The first thing after Natoonka Flower Tea, I found the naughty bees, summoned my most challenging magical powers, and banished the bees from Malvern Gardens forever. They have now been turned into charming floating sculpture that can hurt no one. Here they are for you as a symbol of my victory over malice and my unrelenting efforts to provide magic and mystery for children everywhere.
Queespisia June Petalis
Senior Level Tooth Fairy
Malvern Station 10-A